Five Minutes
by FlyingFerret
Summary: Tag to 1x11 Bloodlines. When the vampire attacks Damon, he didn't only get covered in gasoline, but vervain as well. Elena now must act as Damon's knight in shinning armor.


Understanding 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did I would be receiving dance lessons from Damon.

Damon's body hit the brink wall and he fell to the ground unmoving.

"Thank you," I managed to get out.

"It wasn't for you," the other vampire growled before leaving.

I ran to Damon, who still lay on the cement motionless. Falling to my knees I timidly went to touch his shoulder, "Damon? Can you hear me?" A groan was the answer I received. As gently as I could, I rolled him onto his back. Keeping his head cradled in my arm, his shoulders and upper back on my lap. I tried to clean off some of the gasoline off his face with my sleeve.

"Elena…" he mumbled, barely coherently, "Vervain."

It took me a moment before I understood what he meant, than it clicked. The gasoline was laced with vervain. He was soaked head to toe, he needed to wash it off. There was too much on his clothes to simply let it dry.

"I got us a room at the hotel down the street. You need to get me there."

"Okay." Finding his car keys in his pocket I carefully laid him back on the ground, "Hang it there, I'll be right back."

"Hurry," he pleaded. Every inch of him seemed to cry out in pain.

When I pulled up next to him, Damon was struggling to stand. I got out and was able to get him just in time before he fell back to the ground.

"I got you," I lowered him in the passenger's seat and hastily returned to driver's side.

"Room 104, go around to the back entrance." The sentence took him too much strength so I decided to bite my tongue at the fact that he'd gotten us a room without telling me. Doing as he said, I drove to the back of the building. Slowly, I got him safely inside the room.

He said nothing as I took him straight into the bathroom and he sighed slightly with relief as I pulled off his vervain soaked shirt, but his skin was still slick with the unwanted substance. After he was rid of his jeans and shoes as well-leaving him only in his black boxers- I ordered him in tub and before he was ready turned the shower on full blast.

Moaning, he slid down to sit under the stream of water. I let out a breath that I had been holding and sat on the edge of the tub. I had to admit, he was really adorable when he was vulnerable and I found myself staring at his perfectly sculpt abs, wondering what it would be like to run my hands over that beautiful chest.

Without realizing what I was actually doing, my hand went up to his hair on its own accord. My breath caught in my throat as my fingers brush his water laden hair away from his eyes. Damon looked up me, no sarcastic remarks came my way, no classic Damon smirks, only pure curiosity filled his face.

Neither of us said anything while ran my fingers through his dark hair, he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

"I thought I had lost you," I whispered, letting my finger tip trace the features of his face.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he said in a very uncharacteristically quiet voice. He took my hand in his and held it up to his lips, holding it there for a moment before kissing my palm. "There a bag in the trunk with clothes, will you get it for me?"

"Of course," I nodded.

I hurried to the car and grabbed the bag, not wanting to be away from him. It made no sense, where were these feelings coming from? At the moment-I really didn't care. I had been so scared when I thought Damon was going to die. It never occurred to me until now how much he meant to me. What would I have done if I hadn't been able to save him?

Damon was out of the shower when I returned, a towel wrapped tightly around his hips.

"Thank you," he said, taking the bag from me. "I'll be right out."

I just nodded, shutting the bathroom door behind me as I walked out.

I slid off my shoes and collapsed on the bed. Damon was okay. He was going to live. I wasn't going to be left alone. Emerging from bathroom he wore just a pair of pajama bottoms. Very pale, but at least he was walking on his own.

"How do you feel?" I asked Damon as he sat down next to me on the bed. "Do you need blood?"

"Why are you offering?" his trademark smirk formed on his lips.

I barely gave it any thought before saying yes.

His eyes met mine in surprise, "You really mean that don't you?"

I scooted closer to him until our knees were touching; never breaking eye contact. For the first time I saw Damon being careful, almost hesitant. His fingers brushed against the skin of my neck, draping my hair over one shoulder leaving one side of my neck completely exposed.

"Are you sure? This isn't something you'd typically offer."

"Time out for five minutes," I whispered, tilting my head to give him a better angle. "I'm sure. You need it and unless you have a blood bag then I don't see another option."

His lips glided over my neck before he bit; so gentle and soft that I wouldn't guess it was him. The bite wasn't what I had expected. There was no pain after the initial puncture. Damon pulled me closer to him to where he was practically holding me against him. I hooked my arms around him—to steady myself—I reasoned.

I wasn't entirely sure when he finished because the next thing I knew he was laying down with me on the bed; our heads tiredly hitting the pillows. He pulled the blanket over us and I didn't argue. Not today. Willingly, I laid my head on his chest when he offered to pulled me close.

"Five more minutes?" he asked.

Already half asleep I nodded and confirmed, "Five more minutes."


End file.
